311: Overlooking the Past

December 4, 2009
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The bright strobe lights on stage inculcate the brains and eyes to lock in. Pandemonium. Speakers blare. Subwoofers create an earthquake that rumbles the ground. The intoxicated stagger trying to find their way back to their seats with trouble. Colors flash into the retinas of all the fans, demanding focus on stage. Your own scream is faintly heard over the commotion of the crowd. The absentminded heads nod to the melody of the music. Everyone is brainwashed into a small world of separate existence. Smoke from the crowd mixes with the fog machines to create a black cloud that rises into the crisp summer air. Dancing and laughing the night away, the clock ticks on as we forget about our delicate contemporaneous world. The lawn chairs scattered across the area are empty along with the blankets laid out to sit on. Everyone is on their feet, jovial and blissful. Small rings of light from lighters and cell phones scatter the atmosphere, blinding your view of the distance. No anger exists in a setting so dynamic and vibrant. Smiles hang wide from the corners of everyone’s cheeks while the band plays through a slight, refreshing shower of rain.

After a third goodbye, the band leaves the stage as the lights shut off. Sightless by the dusk, cries of “encore” fill the air. The noise of the crowd carries all over the city as we howl for an additional song. People begin to exit the vicinity when finally the illumination flashes into our pupils after adapting to the night, blinding us once more. The crowd jumps and roars. The gates at the entrance pour with people returning for the final song. I throw my arms around my friends’ shoulders, with a smirk remaining on my face; and look up at the flashing colors in the brisk, revitalizing summer night.

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